This Is Your Song
by LostInBlueSkies
Summary: This delves deeper into Warrick's personal life-- A fellow CSI goes to find out more about Warrick and is in for a surprise--chapter 8 (final chapter) added
1. Building a Mystery

This Is Your Song  
  
  
  
Author's Notes: Even though I thought for sure that I wouldn't be posting anything till at least a week after exams, here I am still in the midst of studying for them and I punched out this piece. I hope you all like it, and please R&R.  
  
Thanks: Thanks goes to Tash for helping me with the rhyming scheme. And for lying about how much my skills at writing songs suck. Yes, I am supposed to be a musician, and no, I'll never be Alanis Morisette. But hey, at least I tried. Thanks also goes to Amber, for reading this before I posted it and reassuring me about my song lyrics :) Also thank you to Allison, (aka the reverend) who continues to just be awesome.  
  
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this fan fiction to Katie Marie Wallace. This is your song.  
  
Disclaimers: I own everything in this story except Warrick and Catherine and the whole CSI theme in general.  
  
I went to a club last night, the club that Warrick DJs at. He didn't know I was coming or that I even knew he was a DJ at all, but that's the way I wanted it. I wanted to see the other side of his life, the one he never showed any of us at the lab. And if I wanted that, my adventure had to be kept a secret.  
  
I walked into the club and saw the smoke swirling up through the air, heading for the ceiling. There were people everywhere, mingling with each other, dancing to the great beat that emanated through the large room. The smell of sweat was evident there, as well as the smell of alcohol and fried food. I found a seat at an empty table and sat, looking for him in the crowd.  
  
I found the DJ, but it wasn't Warrick. It was another man, a Caucasian with red hair and who was very short. He swayed with the beat that he was creating, his eyes closed and his baseball cap turned sideways. I smiled and went back to looking for Warrick.  
  
I found him in the center of a group, his guitar resting on his knee. I sat and watched as he talked and laughed with his friends, probably making some great joke that everyone would remember for years. He turned my way, and without thinking I dove under the table. I didn't want him to see me, to know I was there.  
  
A waitress appeared then, carrying a notepad and smiling broadly at me from above the table. I stood up and plopped myself down in my chair, noticing how she never so much as batted an eye.  
  
"What can I get you this evening?" She asked me. I shrugged, noticing by looking over her shoulder that Warrick was still among friends, except now he was tinkering with a piano that was hiding in the corner.  
  
"What is there?" I had noticed the absence of a menu.  
  
She pointed to a huge chalkboard on the wall to the left of me. I stared at it for three seconds before saying, "Just get me a beer, a big one."  
  
"Any specific brand?"  
  
"Budweiser." I said with confidence, and then, "Get me a hamburger too, actually, with extra ketchup." She nodded and smiled.  
  
"Coming right up." She walked away then and I noticed for the first time how tall she was, she had to be at least six foot.  
  
When she came back with my food and beer a few minutes later, her smile was even broader. "Why are you so happy?" I asked her, my voice light.  
  
"Oh, I just found out Warrick Brown is up tonight. He's such a great musician, I just love his stuff." She answered. I chuckled softly.  
  
"I've never heard him DJ." I said, watching as a sweaty couple danced their way over to my table, then back in the opposite direction.  
  
"Oh, he's not DJing tonight. I meant for afterwards, when it's open mike time. He gets up there and sings." I was clearly shocked at her reply. I had no idea that Warrick sang. I realized then that there was a whole hell of a lot of stuff I didn't know about this man.  
  
Just then I saw him get up on the stage, carrying his guitar and smiling shyly. He looked embarrassed to be in front of such a big crowd. I wondered fleetingly why he'd rather sing for a club full of strangers then for a couple of his good friends. I'd never even heard him so much as hum at the lab.  
  
The beat that had been playing the whole time I was there suddenly stopped. The DJ got down off his perch and sat at a table, watching Warrick standing on stage. His voice resonated through the room as he began to sing.  
  
"I've held back for too long,  
  
What I feel inside.  
  
I need to sing this song,  
  
Cast my fears aside  
  
I see you standing there,  
  
Close enough to touch.  
  
It really isn't fair,  
  
You make me feel so much.  
  
I've tried to tell you how I feel,  
  
Without you I could not live.  
  
But to me, it all feels so unreal,  
  
Your beauty is addictive."  
  
My heart was caught in my throat as his song filled my soul. I felt as though he were singing to me only, and the rest of the club had vanished completely. He stopped singing, his eyes upon mine. I knew he could see me, that he was looking at me, but I didn't move. I was glued to my chair, my eyes were locked with his. I let go of a small smile, letting it play on my lips. He slowly walked off the stage, toward me. His steps were long and quick, and he was by my side in seconds.  
  
"Catherine, what are you doing here?" He asked me, his breath lightly blowing on my face. He didn't seem embarrassed, only taken off guard. My voice shook as I answered.  
  
"I came to hear you play." It seemed as though he was looking inside of me. His stare was beautiful, and I found I couldn't look away.  
  
Finally, he sat down at a chair beside mine, leaving his previous audience confused. Within minutes someone else was on stage singing, and our voices were mingled with Barbra Streisand lyrics.  
  
"How did you know I played here?" His voice was anxious, he hadn't touched me at all yet. Inside I was almost afraid that he would, but terrified that he wouldn't.  
  
"Nick told me you DJed here a lot. But I had no idea you sang, and so beautifully, too." I closed my eyes, remembering the sound of his voice washing over my body. When I opened them again, he was staring at me in an odd way and half-smiling.  
  
"I'm glad you liked it." He bent his head down to look at his hands. "I wrote that song a very long time ago."  
  
My heart sank. I had hoped he had written it for me. I shook my head, calling myself a fool, a conceited fool. "Who did you write it for?"  
  
He shrugged. "No one, really." He finally looked up at me again. "I know it's not the usual musician's response, but I never really felt those lyrics until long after I wrote them." He turned his head away from me again, and fear flashed in his eyes. His facial expression told me that he thought he had said too much.  
  
"I felt them." I said, knowing it was true. Taking a sip of my beer, I began to dance a little in my chair along to the beat of the music swirling around us. I looked to my left and saw several couples dancing. I belted out a line from the song that was playing and smiled happily. He grinned and stood, holding out one beautiful hand.  
  
"Would you like to dance?" He asked me, and when I complied and stood to get out of my chair, his eyes ran over my outfit. "Nice dress."  
  
"Thanks." I said, and for a moment it seemed as though we were back to being friends. Just as I took hold of his hand and began to move to the beat, the music turned slow and suddenly we were serenaded with an old familiar song.  
  
"Love lifts us up where we belong.." Warrick hummed, pressing me closer to him and swaying as the notes surrounded us. I sighed, knowing full well that this night was very different from any other the two of us had spent together. "Do you mind to slow dance?" He asked me, one hand on my back, the other massaging my knuckles.  
  
I shook my head because I knew I couldn't speak. Laying my head on his shoulder, I let the atmosphere drive away my worry that we were doing something terribly wrong, that we would end up ruining our friendship. It felt too right to be wrong. 


	2. Full of Grace

This Is Your Song

Chapter Two

Author''s Notes: This chapter was originally never supposed to exist, but here it is.

Thanks: To Tash, as always. And to Amber, for being cool and for making me laugh and for convincing me to post chapter one, which (obviously) lead to what you''re reading now, which is, in case you weren''t paying attention, chapter two. And also thanks goes to Liona, because she''s so damn funny. To Ewan McGreggor and Nicole Kidman, for inspiration

Dedication: I would like to dedicate this fan fiction to Katie Marie Wallace. This is your song.

Disclaimers: Shut up and touch the monkey!

When the song ended, he pulled me gently away from his body and smiled. ""Want to go get a drink?"" I nodded, and we walked up the bar, taking our seats on the wooden stools that sat there.

He looked at me oddly again, seeming to see something in my eyes that even I didn''t know was there. When he ordered me another Bud and we began chatting normally again, I almost thought things would return to the way they had always been. When we went into work tonight, I could pretend I hadn''t heard him sing those beautiful lyrics. I could pretend I didn''t know they were meant for me.

""Damn."" Warrick swore, looking over my shoulder, his brow creased. I looked in the direction of his eyes and saw Nick, making his way through the crowd toward us.

Immediately I began to sweat. What would he think when he saw us here together? I shook my head and cleared my thoughts, deciding to act normal and make Nick think nothing was out of the ordinary.

""Hey Bro!"" Nick gave Warrick a complicated-looking version of the classic high-five and turned to smile at me. ""Cat, what are you doing here? Come to see my man do his thang?""

I rolled my eyes. ""Something like that."" Warrick laughed.

""Catherine''s just here to check out my gig."" Warrick said, and I smiled. I liked the way he said my name.

""Did you like Ricky''s stuff?"" Nick asked me, sitting down on the stool beside mine and ordering a screwdriver. I was irritated, I didn''t want him here. I didn''t stop to wonder why that was, just started talking.

""Oh yeah, I really liked it."" I took a sip of my Budweiser and winked at Warrick. ""He has a beautiful voice and a real talent for writing music.""

Warrick blushed and Nick whistled. ""Looks like someone''s got a crush on you, buddy."" He reached over me and poked his friend in the shoulder. I just laughed, not knowing how else to respond to Nick''s childishness.  
""You''re like a four year-old, bro."" Apparently, Warrick did.

""Oh come on, you two think I can''t see what''s going on here?"" Nick asked, raising his eyebrows. ""I come here and find you two sitting oh-so- close at the bar, there''s alcohol, slow music, and my man Jimmy tells me as I''m coming in that Warrick has found himself a woman, that the two of you were dancing without a sliver of daylight between you just a few minutes ago."" Warrick winced and pounded the table.

""Damn Jimmy."" Warrick said. I looked down at my glass, wondering if Nick would surprise me and get even more annoying. ""He doesn''t know what he''s talking about, Cat and I were just dancing."" He told Nick, fingering the edge of his Scotch glass.

Nick put his hands up in defense. ""Hey, whatever is going on here is none of my business. I just came to see the hot waitress."" Warrick chuckled softly, and I gave off a confused expression.

""Hot waitress?"" I asked, finishing off my beer and motioning for the bartender to fill it up again. Warrick pushed away his Scotch. I was impressed that he hadn''t drank more than two gulps all night.

""Chantelle. She''s gorgeous, and brainy too."" Nick answered, looking around.

""She''s off-duty tonight, man."" Warrick said, and Nick pouted.

My cell phone suddenly started to ring, and I took it out of my purse and flipped it open, wondering who the hell could be calling this late at night. ""Catherine Willows."" I greeted.

""Cat, it''s Grissom."" I rolled my eyes. ""I need you to come to the lab right now, we''ve got a case.""

""Aw, c''mon Gil, shift doesn''t start for another hour!"" I whined, tugging at the handle of my beer glass.

""Catherine, have you been drinking?"" He asked me, and I wondered how he knew. He didn''t wait for my answer. ""You only drink on special occasions. What''s up?""

""Nothing''s up, I haven''t been drinking."" I lied, knowing full well I was on my third of the night. I saw Warrick looking at me through the corner of my eye, and noticed the absence of Nick sitting beside me. He must have left for the bathroom, I thought.

""Then what''s with the uncharacteristic whining?"" Gil asked, his voice disapproving.

""I was sleeping when you called."" I tried not to slur my words.

""Sleeping with your Pink CD playing?"" He asked me, almost laughing. I wondered fleetingly how he knew the music in the background was Pink, but then came up with my answer.

""You spend too much time with Greg."" I stated, chugging down half of my beer and smiling at Warrick.

""It''s because I''m dedicated to the lab, which is where you should be right now. Come quickly, this is a hot case."" He stopped, and I knew he was thinking. ""Wait, forget I said that. Call Warrick from wherever it is you are right now, get him to pick you up. He should be at home. I don''t want you driving, we both know from experience that you can''t hold your liquor.""  
I laughed. ""Don''t bring up that night.""

""I wasn''t."" Gil said, and I could tell by the agitation in his voice he wanted to hang up. ""Promise me you won''t drive?""

""I promise.""

""That''s my girl. Bye."" He said, and waited for me to say it back. I laughed, thinking he must really be worried about me.

""Goodbye Gil."" I said, trying to sound irritated. I pushed ''end'' on my phone and stood up. ""Gil wants us at the lab right away."" Warrick raised one eyebrow but said nothing as he stood.

""Could you give me a ride? A friend drove me here."" He told me regretfully. I shook my head.

""The boss says I''m not allowed to drive, so you can take my car."" I threw him my keys.

He grinned. ""I was about to suggest the same thing.""


	3. Black and White

This Is Your Song Chapter Three  
  
Author's Notes: I have no idea where this story is going. I just keep writing and writing because fanfiction.net doesn't prove such a distraction. Even though I have exams, I just keep writing and writing... Thanks: To Tash, of course, because she's so awesomely amazing. Tash, I think I thanked you in every single chapter of my other fics, and now also of this fic! You're totally cool, thanks for all your help, and as a way to thank you, I decided to add Sara in ONE more scene. LOL Also thanks goes out to my friends at school, whom I miss, and also to Amber for being so cool about everything. Allison, you're so cool. You help, me and you're just too damn cool! And to Alisha, for "helping" with the present idea. Note: There is no disclaimer, just to prove to everyone that we don't need a disclaimer, because we're not going to get sued.  
  
  
  
Warrick was driving my Tahoe. It felt odd to be seated next to him on the cool leather interior, watching him as he slowly maneuvered the vehicle from road to road, turning corners and stopping at red lights. I knew we had a long way to go before we got to the lab, so I reached over and switched on the radio, giggling when the music came on so loud Warrick winced.  
  
"Country?" He asked me, his tone slightly mocking. I blushed.  
  
"Lindsey likes it." I said, switching the station in embarrassment and feeling a headache coming on already. Gil was right, I couldn't hold my liquor.  
  
When I was a teenager, I used to get bugged by my friends because in one or two beers, I'd be gone. It hasn't gotten any better with age, either. I'm still teased mercilessly at parties for taking one drink, because all the guests know that if I drink more than three, I'll be really happy.  
  
I was glad that I had managed to only embarrass myself slightly that night. I was still a tad tipsy, though, I could feel it in my head. Ironically, Warrick broke the silence by asking me,  
  
"Do you need an aspirin? I've got one left." I sighed, taking the Tylenol from him gently and popping it in my mouth.  
  
"Thanks." I said quietly, rubbing my now-pounding head with my thumb. I looked over at him and found he was smiling slightly, and he wore an amused expression. "Something funny?" I asked him, clearing my throat and waiting for the medicine to melt away my dull pain.  
  
"Naw," he said, peeling his eyes away from the windshield for a quick second to grin at me. "I was just thinking about something. A story Sara told me once."  
  
"Oh?" I asked, curious.  
  
"She said at Jim's birthday party you got totally trashed and started dancing on a table." I groaned and put my head in between my hands. He laughed when he saw my reaction. "I'm sorry I missed that one."  
  
"Where were you that night, anyhow? I was looking all over for you, and Gil wasn't too happy you skipped out." Warrick didn't look at me.  
  
"I had a gig, I think. I'm not sure." His voice was coated with emotion, so I let the subject drop. "Why would Gil care?"  
  
"Oh, we played a 'girls against boys' game of charades. Gil had Doc Robbins on his team, who sucks at all party games, and you know how Gris hates losing." I laughed at the memory. "And Nicky was sick, so he didn't show either."  
  
Warrick smiled a little and turned a corner. "So you and Sara kicked the boys' ass'?" He asked me.  
  
I nodded. "Oh yes. If you ever need a good laugh ask Doc Robbins to act out the movie title 'Dirty Dancing'" I told him. He burst out laughing.  
  
"I will definitely remember that one, thanks."  
  
There was something about his presence in my sport utility vehicle that I didn't want to disappear. His scent, maybe, the way it drifted through the air and landed right beside me. He made this monstrosity of a car seem glamorous, romantic, and a little mysterious.  
  
"You got the nice model." He said about my Tahoe. I laughed then, because it was like he had read my mind. But he didn't take it that way. "No, seriously you did."  
  
"The nice model? We all got the same year, same company, same crappy Chevy." I told him, but felt bad. "OK, Chevy's are normally good cars, but this one is just a huge, gas-guzzling SUV."  
  
"True." Warrick agreed. "But there's gotta be something about it you like."  
  
"Not really." I said bitterly.  
  
"How about the power steering?" He suggested. "It's a nice colour. And there's enough room for Lindsey and her friends." He said, motioning to the back seats. "And it smells like you."  
  
I was a little taken aback, but I said nothing, only smiled. "You mean like strawberries." I said, thinking of the body spray I used every morning.  
  
He shook his head. "Like fabric softener, orange juice and chewing gum." I giggled. "And strawberries." He added. "And Ivory soap and perfume." I was blushing. I found it beyond flattering that he knew exactly what I smelled like.  
  
"Is that a good thing?" I asked, smelling my shirt for traces of orange juice. I made a mental note to keep using Ivory soap.  
  
He nodded. "Yeah." He said simply, and I could tell by his face that he meant it. Just before an uncomfortable silence began he turned into the CSI driveway and parked in my space. I turned to him and smiled.  
  
"My headache's gone. Thanks for driving me." I tried to look into his eyes but he wouldn't let me. He kept shifting in his seat, when he finally unbuckled his seat belt and told me I was welcome.  
  
"Come around to the club again, if you want." He suggested, and climbed out of the Tahoe. I walked around to his side and put my hand on his shoulder.  
  
"I just might do that."  
  
  
  
I had a birthday party at my house on the Friday night of that week, before shift. I had invited a lot of people: Brass, Gil, Sara, Nick, Warrick, Greg, Doc Robbins, David, and a couple other old friends, but I didn't expect them all to show up. I didn't want them all to show up, actually, which is why I chose my words very carefully when typing out my invitations.  
  
"Come if you want. Low-key, some alcohol, just a before-work party." I intended it to be the exact opposite. I felt bad for not inviting everyone I was friends with so I lied on the invites and crossed my fingers, hoping only a few choice people would come.  
  
Gil arrived first, as usual, and made his way to my sofa, crossing his legs, handing me my present, and grinning as he saw the selection of drinks. "The invitations said 'some alcohol', Cat. You've got the equivalent of the neighborhood bar in here." He motioned to the bottles of Jack Daniels, Mike's Hard Lemonade, Budweiser, vodka, rum, whiskey, wine, and anything else I could get my hands on.  
  
"Yeah, I lied." I said. "You want anything?"  
  
"Throw me a Bud." He said, and I did as I was told, chucking the cold bottle across the room to him. He caught it and twisted the cap open, taking his first sip almost instantly.  
  
"Tough day?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow at his thirst for alcohol.  
  
"You could say that." I waited for him to tell me what had transpired, knowing I was the only one he wouldn't keep it a secret from. "It's personal." He said when he caught my eye. I tried not to look hurt.  
  
"When has that ever mattered?" I asked him, picking up a Mike's out of habit but not really intending to drink it. "We're friends, Gil. Tell me what's wrong."  
  
I crossed to the couch where he sat and watched his facial expressions tighten. He swirled his finger around the mouth of his beer bottle and sighed. "I was just thinking about my mother." I nodded, not knowing what to say.  
  
I massaged his back and marveled at how tight his muscles were. I had never imagined one man could be so stressed out. I knew he didn't want to talk about his mom, so I decided to change the subject. In my head, though, I was calculating how many years it had been now since she died. "You should get out more, Gilly."  
  
He smiled weakly at the name, drinking a bit more of his beer before setting it down on the table. When my hand moved to his lower back he stood up and shook his head, and I sighed. He always took it the wrong way.  
  
"Afraid of physical contact?" I asked him, and he laughed.  
  
"Terrified." I repeated to him that we were friends, and that I wanted to be there for him. He seemed to understand, this time, what I meant when I said friends, and I watched him relax.  
  
"Can I open my present?" I asked, looking at the gift bag hanging off the side of a chair in the dining room. He shook his head.  
  
"No way. Wait until everyone else gets here." I pouted, but agreed.  
  
"Do you have any idea who's all coming to this party?" I asked him, taking a handful of chips and stuffing them down my throat. "Cause I didn't get any RSVP's."  
  
"You didn't ask for any." Gil commented. "I know for sure Sara, Nick and Warrick are all coming." He sat down on my counter, not so much as flinching when the doorbell rang. He stood and went to go answer the door.  
  
Warrick stood there, a blue package in his left hand. He was grinning, and he looked good. Really good. I shook my head and forced a normal smile, walking up to the doorway and greeting him.  
  
"I didn't really know what to get you.." He said nervously, shoving the present at me as soon as I got close enough to reach it. I took it gently in one arm and hugged him with the other, noticing that he was wearing more aftershave than usual.  
  
Putting the present on the counter, I offered him a drink but he shook his head. "Could you open it now?" He asked me, once Grissom had left for the washroom.  
  
I gave him a confused expression. "Now? There's no one here."  
  
"I know, that's why." He looked incredibly nervous, and he kept wiping the palms of his hands on his trousers. I shrugged and ripped the blue wrapping off of the box, wondering at the odd shape of the cardboard.  
  
I opened it, revealing a clear CD case. Looking at him oddly, I snapped the cover apart from the case. He said nothing. Inside was a CD, blank save the words that were written in black marker. "Songs by Warrick." I read aloud, and smiled.  
  
He cleared his throat. "I didn't know what to call it." He had his head bent down to stare at the carpet beneath his feet. I bit my lip, running my fingers over the surface of the CD and grinned.  
  
"This is beautiful, Warrick." I hugged him again, letting myself linger this time. The bathroom door closed softly, and Gil walked into the living room.  
  
"Break it up, I'm back." He said jokingly. I hid the CD behind my back upon seeing Warrick's embarrassed expression. He didn't want anyone else to know.  
  
"Gil, could you get me the trash can from the kitchen?" I asked him, my eyes still staring into Warrick's face.  
  
"Sure." Gil complied, disappearing into the opposite room. I shoved the CD into a drawer and winked at Warrick, and was seated beside him on the couch when Grissom came back into the room.  
  
It promised to be an interesting night. 


	4. Witness

This Is Your Song Chapter Four  
  
Author's Notes: This chapter depends solely on alcohol to keep the plot line going. But no one has complained so far so I figured I'd keep it that way. This is more of a group chapter than a W/C chapter, but there's hinting. Thanks: To Tash, I punched this out while you were in France. I miss you so much, I'm dying here without you as a beta! To Amber, for being my stand-in beta, (and a damned good one, too) You helped me so much with this chapter! Thank you thank you thank you! Also to Allison, (we rule at moderating yahoo groups together) for just being totally cool. You're so cool. Thank you for being cool, and remember, *punches the air* MICROSCOPE! Disclaimers: CSI isn't mine, but we all know that.  
  
  
  
By the middle of the night it was evident that my crappy invitations had paid off. The only people that showed up at the party were Gil, Warrick, Sara, and Nick, who brought the "hot waitress" Chantelle as his date.  
  
As my alcohol supply diminished, so did the amount of intelligent conversation that went on in the room.  
  
"So what you're telling me is that you can lower a five inch cooked spaghetti noodle down your throat, and then pull it back out again?" Warrick asked, dumbfounded. Nick nodded. "Cat, have you got any noodles? I have to see this!"  
  
I shook my head. "There is no way I am encouraging this childish behaviour." I said, sitting beside him on the couch. Nick stretched to put his arm around Chantelle and grinned.  
  
"Well then what do you propose we do, Catherine?" He asked me in an all-too fake dignified voice. "You're almost out of beer and Doc Robbins isn't around to make charades fun."  
  
"How did you hear about that?" Gil asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of Sara's chair.  
  
"Word gets around." Nick answered.  
  
"I do know of one game you all might find interesting." Chantelle's soft voice floated across the room and we all looked up. "It's called 'I'm the Dullest Per-"  
  
"I vote for no games at all." Sara interrupted, speaking for the first time in almost the whole night. It was now obvious why, since her words were slurred and her step on the way to the table was a tad tipsy. "Why don't we just sit here and drink?" She held up her glass of vodka and threw us a lopsided grin, attempting to stand straight without the support of the table. "Sara, why don't you sit down?" Gil asked quietly, reaching out a hand to guide her to him.  
  
"No." She spat. I raised an eyebrow in surprise. I had never seen her like this. Everyone present, besides Warrick, was a little happy, but she was flat-out drunk. A sober Sara would never have talked to Grissom like that.  
  
Nobody said anything until we heard Warrick chuckling. "Oh man, Sara, you are totally toasted." He laughed out loud and picked up a fresh can of Pepsi. I noticed early on in the party that Warrick rarely drank. "Maybe I should drive you home.." he said, seeing the concern in Gil's eyes. I found myself hoping she wouldn't protest as he grabbed her arm and attempted to steer her toward the door. I knew Gil himself would have offered, but he'd had alcohol that night, too, and he was, if anything, a safe driver.  
  
"I'm not leaving while she's still not leaving!" Sara said, pointing a shaking finger at me.  
  
"I live here." I said simply, inside wondering why she cared so much that I stayed.  
  
Sara snorted. "That's your excuse.." OK, now I was officially confused. "Once I leave, who knows what will happen between you and Grissom.." she trailed off, and was about to pour herself another drink, but Gil put a hand on her arm to stop her.  
  
"Sara, why don't you let Warrick drive you home before you make a complete fool out of yourself?" He said, attempting to calm her down.  
  
"Oh, come on Gil!" She yelled, slamming her fist on the table. "Do you think I don't know what's going on here?" She slanted her eyes and stared at me venomously. "The little touches, the stares back and forth, the pretty earrings you got her for her birthday-" She suddenly began to laugh, at first only a little but then she was howling, her head thrown back. "It was all a joke, wasn't it, Grissom? Everything you made me feel..." Her laughter turned into tears.  
  
The room was silent, and Gil's head was in his hands. This was turning out to be the worst party I'd ever thrown. Why didn't I notice before how many trips Sara was taking to the vodka bottle? I could have prevented all this by being a good hostess.  
  
"Sara, you don't know what you're saying. You're completely drunk." Gil told her.  
  
"I'm not drunk!" She said, almost cheerfully. "I'm just enlightened! I'm glad that I can finally see the truth." She giggled. I felt like one of us should have been doing something, but nobody was moving. This was way more interesting than charades. Sara leaned forward in her chair, accidentally pouring her whole glass of vodka onto my brand new carpet. "How long has this been going on between you two?"  
  
I looked at Gil and tried not to laugh when I saw his hilarious shocked expression. I got out of my chair to get a towel from the kitchen, proceeding to wipe up Sara's mess. Warrick got another and helped me. Grissom, I noticed, wasn't laughing about Sara's earlier comment.  
  
"Sara, there's nothing going on between me and Catherine." I looked up to stare at him, shaking my head, telling him it wouldn't do any good. He shook his back, telling me he didn't care.  
  
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" Sara asked, out of nowhere. Gil looked even more shocked, and then embarrassed. He stared down at the floor while she rambled on and on about zambonis, and Charlie Brown, or something. It was barely intelligible.  
  
"Sara..." his voice warned her.  
  
"Is the room spinning to anyone else?" And then she was on the floor. Sprawled, her arm spread out, index finger touching Grissom's shoe. Passed out, she looked peaceful. I thanked God that her rambling was over.  
  
"Jeez.." I whispered, slapping her cheek a bit.  
  
Warrick came up behind me. "Just let her sleep it off." He whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine.  
  
"I don't want her passed out on my living room floor!" I protested, shaking her shoulder and calling her name. "Sara, c'mon, wake up dammit!" She didn't. I sighed and sat, defeated, against Gil's knees, who was still in his chair.  
  
"As much fun as this has been, I think we're gonna leave." Nick told me, standing to move toward the door. I stopped him by shouting,  
  
"Oh no you don't! You're not driving. You drank tonight, too. I don't want anyone dead when I get to work." I stood up and motioned to the hallway. "Just stay here until shift starts."  
  
"Catherine, I'm perfectly sober." Nick said, sighing, but knew it was pointless. "Can Chantelle drive?" I shook my head.  
  
"She finished off my supply of Mike's. I can't drive, and neither can Gil." Warrick stood, obviously noting he would have to be the designated driver for the night.  
  
"C'mon Nicky, hand me your keys." Nick did so and Warrick turned. "Gil, why don't you come, too?"  
  
Gil shook his head. "I'll stay with-" He stopped, staring at the motionless form on my floor. "I'll stay for a while yet."  
  
"Just hang out here till shift, Gris." I suggested, picking up a couple of dirty dishes and carrying them to the kitchen. "Thanks a lot, Ricky." I waved to Warrick and smiled, watching him as he trailed Nick and Chantelle. Glancing at the clock, I sighed. "One more hour."  
  
Gil nodded. "I think Sara gets a day off."  
  
Later on, Gil and I had finished cleaning up and were busy waiting for Sara to wake up. I noticed the way he stared at her while she lay there, but decided to ignore it. I made an attempt at conversation. "So Sara got drunk and did something stupid. I thought I'd never see the day."  
  
"Well, it happens to all of us at one point in time." Gil said, looking at me oddly. I raised an eyebrow.  
  
"We never talked about that night." I said softly, but he raised a hand and shook his head a little. I sighed.  
  
"Let's keep it that way." His voice was a little louder this time, and it signaled the stirring of Sara, who was still in the same position on the floor as she had landed in.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open. "Where the hell am I?" I rolled my eyes and walked out of the kitchen to where Gil was bent over her. Recognition washed over Sara's face and she sat up, holding her head in pain. She groaned, standing to survey her surroundings.  
  
We were watching her so intently that I think she sensed something was wrong. "How big a fool did I make of myself tonight?" She asked us, and I moved to get her an aspirin, leaving Gil to answer her question.  
  
"You'll remember soon enough." He said, putting his hand on her elbow and moving her to the kitchen. "Sit down and drink some coffee, take an aspirin, and then you can sleep, or something. But you're not going into work."  
  
"I'll drive her home." I suggested. Grissom looked at me. "The alcohol will have been worked off by then." He nodded.  
  
"Warrick should be back soon to get his Tahoe."  
  
"Could you two quiet down?" Sara hissed, resting her cheek on my kitchen table. Apparently, she was almost totally into the sober/hangover stage. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  
  
Walking back into the living room, I switched the TV on, flipping through channels to find something interesting. Discovery Channel, documentary on the rainforests of Brazil. I grinned, whipping around to face the kitchen. "Gil, look!" I pointed to the television set. He smiled briefly but went back to staring at Sara. "Wanna watch it with me?" I patted the space on the couch beside me.  
  
"No thanks." He said. "But it's your favourite!" I protested. He looked at me and smiled again.  
  
"I know." He put a hand on Sara's back and I knew what was happening. I was getting shafted for Sidle. I turned back to the Discovery Channel and within minutes was lost in the rainforest. 


	5. Sweet Surrender

This Is Your Song Chapter Five

Author's Notes: There's a little bad language (one word) at the end of this chapter. I just thought I should warn you because this isn't rated R. Thanks: Thank you to the reverend, you know who you are. To Meg, who is an amazing beta and a wonderful friend. Your beta of this story has gone a long way to making it just plain better. Thank you so much. To Tash, for not freaking out when she got home from France and found this in her inbox.

Gil ended up driving Sara home, but I wasn't surprised it turned out that way. I didn't mind all that much, I just waited at home for Warrick to come back and pick up his Tahoe. I was sure he'd come inside for a little while to chat. I was excited. Odd, but I was. I didn't know why.

Sure enough, a few minutes after Gil left I heard a knock on my front door, and when I opened it Warrick was standing there. "Hey Cath." He said softly, smiling at me almost nervously. I grinned and let him inside.

"Want a drink?" I asked him, motioning to a few Pepsi cans that were still left from the party. He shook his head and took a seat on the sofa.

"I just came back for my Tahoe, you know. Not much time to talk, shift starts soon." His voice was strained, and the words came out forced. I smiled a little and sat beside him, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in my dress pants and clearing my throat.

"So how does Nick's truck run? Because he had to bring it in for repairs last week, so I was just wondering." I thought I saw him chuckle silently, but it was so hard to catch that I let it go.

"It runs great." Warrick answered, turning towards me and staring at my face. It should have made me uncomfortable, but it didn't. I was in the middle of getting lost in his eyes when he reached out two fingers and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Good." I said simply. I was at a loss for words, and it was the only thing I could think of. He grinned at me and leaned closer, inhaling a little deeper than necessary and stroking my jaw with his finger.

"Yeah." He whispered, and his breath blew lightly on my face. It smelled like Trident. I felt goose bumps on my arms as he moved his finger from my jaw to my chin, and then to my lips. I wanted to say something or do something, but I felt as if I was frozen.

His hand found its way to my knee and within seconds I had surrendered, letting him kiss me passionately and run his hands up and down my back. Nothing had prepared me for the shock of electricity that ran through me as his lips pressed against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, loving the smell of his aftershave when I inhaled to catch my breath.

He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, breathing heavily. "What is it?" I asked him, wordlessly hoping he hadn't changed his mind.

He stared for a few more seconds before shaking his head. "Nothing." He leaned in to kiss me again, but the phone interrupted him.

I glanced at him apologetically and reached over to pick the receiver up, only to change my mind and hang it up again. He grinned.

Later on, I lay on my back against the cool white sheets of my bed, letting the wind blow in from the open window and toss my hair around. I smiled as his hand found mine, and his finger stroked my palm. The air was light and smelled like him. I looked up at the ceiling and counted the tiles. One, two, three...

He sighed softly beside me. His presence was intoxicating. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, locking away the moment.

I didn't want the moment to end, I wanted Warrick to always be beside me, to always be breathing softly in bed next to me. I licked my lips and tasted what was left of the sweetness of his kiss.

The phone on my bedside table rang and I reached over to answer it, feeling his eyes on my back as I greeted the person on the other line.

"Hello." I said jovially, still in some state of ecstacy. The voice was anything but happy, however.

"Where the hell are you, Catherine!" Grissom yelled, and I winced. "Shift started over an hour ago! I've been trying to get a hold of you but you weren't answering the phone. And where's Warrick?"

I thanked God Gil hadn't put two and two together yet. "I am so sorry Gil." I apologized, moving to grab my clothes from off the bedroom floor. "We-...I mean I totally forgot." I looked at Warrick and his eyes widened with recognition.

"Shit." He swore, and jumped out of bed and into his pair of jeans. I struggled to get my blouse on while Gil lectured me and then hung up. I threw the phone on the bed and looked up at Warrick, who was buttoning up his shirt.

"They're going to figure it out." I said simply, and tried to see his expression. He was smiling.

"Even if they do, Cat, it was worth it." He said, and took my hand in his. "It was so totally worth it."

I looked at him with a goofy expression for a few seconds before slipping into my jeans and running outside with him to our Tahoes. I jumped into mine and revved up the engine, cruising out of the driveway. Warrick was driving behind me when suddenly something went wrong and I had to pull over to the side of the road. I glanced quickly at the gas gage and groaned. Warrick's Tahoe came up beside mine and he rolled down his window. I did the same, and stuck my head out. "The damn thing is out of gas." I said, frustrated.

"Alright, it's OK, just come with me." He said, reaching over to open the passenger door. I almost smiled.

"OK, thanks." I was beside him and turning the radio on before I realized it.

"They're definitely going to know we were together now." I said softly, raising my left eyebrow. He looked at me and shrugged, pressing harder on the gas pedal. We passed a 30 miles per hour sign while Warrick was on his way to reaching 50.

"They had to find out sometime." He didn't seem to mind as much as I did. Something was wrong with the way I was feeling. Was it fear that I felt? I didn't recognize the emotion, but it was there. I decided to ignore it, thinking it would go away.

"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in." Nick commented, swivelling in his office chair. Grissom sat across the table from him, case file in hand. They both looked indignant, but one more than the other. Gil seemed about to burst.

Warrick was the first to speak. "We can explain this." Nick was staring at me, suddenly grinning. I smiled back, thinking he had forgiven me for leaving him with all the night shift work. I was wrong.

"You mean, you can explain why Catherine's shirt is on inside out?" Nick asked, laughing. He had a condescending grin on his face that made my stomach heave. I looked down at my blouse and saw that it was, indeed, on inside out. No wonder it took a little longer to button up than usual.

"I cannot believe you two." Grissom said, holding his forehead up with two fingers. "You both know we're in the middle of one of the biggest cases of our careers, with extra work, and you skip an hour of work for a quick roll in the hay?" He sounded really angry. I told him in my head to take a load off.

I cleared my throat and carefully inspected my fingernails, which, I noted, were painted red. I couldn't think of anything to say but, "I'm sorry we're late, Gil. You can be as pissed as you want at us for that, but the rest is personal."

He didn't look surprised that I had said it, just nodded with a grim expression on his face and told us both to sit down. I put my head in my hands while I listened to Gil talking about the case, reviewing the evidence we had collected.

I saw the way Gil eyed me through his whole speech. He seemed almost disappointed in me, like he hadn't expected me to do something like this. The fact is, I'd been wondering to myself if this wasn't all a little sudden, and his expression only served to further my suspicions..

Nick and Grissom's reaction had helped clear something up for me. That what Warrick and I had done was impulsive, and that it had probably ruined everything. The best way to avoid it ever happening again, that I could think of, was to tell Warrick we should stay friends and nothing more.

While I was preparing to leave to go home, Gil cornered me in the hallway. I sighed and looked at him with a tired expression, ready for a lecture.

"Catherine, don't give me a hard time. I just want to talk to you." He said when I rolled my eyes. "I'm not just your supervisor, I'm your friend, too."

"I really don't want to talk about this." I said in a gruff voice. I was tired, and wanted to go home to think about what everything that had happened tonight. And to sleep. It had been a long shift, and all the personal conflicts that I had going on weren't helping to lower my stress level at all.

He ignored my remark. "Do you really think it's wise to get involved with someone who you work with? I mean, I'm all for you having some fun, but... I've seen the way Warrick looks at you, and I wonder if his feelings are on the same level as yours-"

I interrupted him. "Gil, this is really none of your business." I leaned one hand against the wall beside me and gave him my best glare.  
He held up his hands in defense. "I'm just trying to discuss this with you, Catherine. I don't discuss things with many people."

"Why is it that you love to talk about other people I'm fucking, but when it comes to you and I in the sack together, your lips are sealed?" He looked shocked for a second at my language, but I didn't care.

"Damn it, Catherine. You never tried to talk about it with me, either. Besides, that was months ago. Three, to be exact."

"Who's counting?" I asked him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Things were different then." He was going to keep going, I realized, and sighed. "You and Warrick weren't fatally attracted to each other, and Sara and I weren't..." He trailed off, looking at the wall in front of him instead of into my eyes like he usually did.

"You and Sara weren't playing with the idea of crossing that fine line between friends and lovers." I finished for him. I had calmed down some, and was beginning to understand his earlier concern.

He shook his head. "Sara and I have always been playing with that idea."

I nodded. "You were imagining her when you were with me, weren't you?" I had no idea where it had come from, but I wasn't sorry I had said it. Some of this had to get put out in the open. He looked at me in sympathy, his blue eyes filled with something I didn't recognize.

"No, no, Catherine. I wasn't." He put a hand on my arm. I wasn't sure if I wanted it there or not, but didn't shrug it off. "That night with you was about passion and desire, we were searching for something..." He stopped. "Something we never found. We never found it, did we?"

I decided not to answer. "And with Sara it wouldn't be about passion and desire?" I wondered fleetingly if I was being rude by asking so many questions, but knew I didn't care. I wanted to know.

He looked strangely amused. "It would be different."

Suddenly I understood. "It wouldn't be sex, it would be making love." His face told me he was glad I had said it for him. I felt a release inside of me somewhere, like it was simpler now. Simpler to understand, anyway. But this was, by no means, over. "I'm glad somebody else besides me feels the difference between the two."

He smiled. "Me too." He took my left hand in his and thanked me silently for understanding, without words he thanked me. I squeezed his fingers and smiled back.

I leaned forward. "You love her, don't you?" I asked him quietly, feeling closer to him at that moment than I ever had before. He was my best friend, I knew it for sure then.

Saying nothing, he turned slowly and walked down the hall, away from me. I grinned and did the same, in the opposite direction.

I had no idea what I was going to do about this whole thing with Warrick. Was it a mistake, or was it the best thing I had ever done in my entire life?

Was it sex, or was it making love?


	6. Do What You Have To Do

This Is Your Song Chapter Six  
  
Author's Notes: Angst. Angst, angst and more angst. Thanks: To Amber, for the S/G tarantula-buying idea, and the C/W "glory days" comment, to try and cure me of my writer's block. You're the best. To Tash, for finally coming home and not hitting me with several heavy objects after reading chapter five. To Allison, for being my partner in brainwashing, and to Telly, for being cute. And, of course, to Meg. Because you just flat-out rock at being a beta, and you've helped me so much with this story. Disclaimers: Don't steal my story...actually, go ahead. Come on, R&R..you know you want to. ;)  
  
  
  
I was sitting at my kitchen table watching the movement of the ceiling fan reflecting in my coffee cup. The silence in the room was pretty near unbearable, so I tapped the handle of my mug with my fingernail so I would have something to listen to. Lindsey was with Eddie for the day, and so I was home alone, left to contemplate everything that was going on in my life.  
  
The loud knock at the door made me jump a little, but I recovered and got up to answer it. He took me by surprise, standing on the other side of the doorframe, smiling down at me. I attempted a greeting and moved aside so he could walk in. I noticed he was wearing new shoes.  
  
"I just came by to see if you wanted to go out and get something to eat." I had hoped he wouldn't say that. I could feel my eyes clouding over as I heard the words, and I turned so I wouldn't have to see his face.  
  
"I don't think so, Warrick." The voice sounded too low to be mine, but I knew it was. He said nothing, just stood there in the middle of my living room, his fists clenched at his sides.  
  
"Why not?" It's like he assumed the worst. He didn't ask me if I had other plans, or if I had already eaten. He knew instantly something wasn't right.  
  
"It's too complicated." I answered, finally turning to face him. "You and I having a relationship is just too complicated." His happiness crumbled.  
  
"What do you mean?" He said, his voice sounding desperate. "What about last night? I thought you... I thought we.." He trailed off, his features still strained.  
  
"Don't take this the wrong way, Warrick. I just don't want to get involved with someone right now. Especially not someone from work. Lindsey needs a father figure in her life, because God knows Eddie isn't much of one. And that would be asking way too much of you. I just, I'd just hate to have to hurt you." I knew I had said all the wrong things. The speech I had memorized before had disappeared, and I couldn't think of anything to tell him that would make sense.  
  
"Yeah well, too late, Catherine." His jaw was clenched the way it did only when he was really pissed. "I can't believe this." He rubbed his eyebrows with his left hand. "You don't just make love to someone one night, then the next decide there's nothing between you. You don't just do that."  
  
"Maybe I do." I offered. I knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. I wondered fleetingly if anything I ever said was the right thing. "I am so sorry, Warrick. This was such a huge mistake." He stared at me, but not into me like he usually did. I noticed the difference instantly. "I'm so sorry." I said again.  
  
He shook his head. "You can't stand here and tell me that last night meant nothing to you, Catherine. Because I know it did. I felt it. There was something between us-" He stopped short. "I know there was. There still is." He sighed and looked down at his feet. "You can't tell me there wasn't. You can't tell me you didn't feel it, too."  
  
I didn't know what to say. He was right, of course. Every part of me knew he was, but my lips were saying things that I wasn't giving them permission to. "It's too complicated, Warrick." I said again.  
  
He snorted in disbelief and turned to the door. "The hell with this."  
  
The slam of the door seemed to shake the house, it seemed much too loud, deafening almost. The realization hit me that he was gone. And that it was my fault. I fell, defeated, in one of the wooden chairs that were around the table.  
  
  
  
"Catherine, you mind to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Warrick?" Gil walked up to me, his suede shoes making quiet squeaks against the linoleum of the floor. It was a few days after the incident at my house with Warrick. Things in the lab had been overly awkward, and obviously, Gil had sensed that.  
  
"Nothing." I lied, turning back to Greg, who was processing my evidence for the case I was working with Nick.  
  
"Bull shit." Grissom replied, and I raised my eyebrows. He rarely swore. A man of few words, he simply stood there in the middle of the room and stared at me.  
  
"Done." Greg said suddenly, and I looked at him. He glanced at the paper that had just come out of the machine. "Your substance was chocolate. Have fun."  
  
I nodded at him and left the room, Gil following me angrily. "Catherine, come on. What happened between the two of you? I can't stand things being like this around here.." He pushed my shoulder slightly. "Talk to me."  
  
I sighed and followed him into his office, the dead bugs and jarred animal remains that lay on his shelves distracting me for a few seconds. I picked up a pinkish looking container and held it up for inspection. "Is this new?" I asked him.  
  
He didn't answer. "Sit." He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. I did as I was told while he looked me up and down. I saw his eyes soften and knew he had finished being angry with me. I could always tell when he switched from being my boss to being my friend. "You're dressed up more than usual. You were hoping he'd notice."  
  
"I just felt like dressing up." I said. "I've felt like dressing up a lot since it happened."  
  
"Since what happened?" Gil asked. I sighed and set my elbows on his desk. "Since I turned him down." My voice was slightly muffled by my hands resting under my chin. "He came to ask me to lunch. I told him we couldn't have a relationship."  
  
"But you slept together. Doesn't that imply a relationship?" I shook my head.  
  
"Not always."  
  
"So you basically told him it was a one-night stand?" He asked me. He leaned back in his office chair, surveying my face like he always did. Looking for hidden emotions.  
  
"No!" The phrase seemed to harsh for what had gone on that night. "I just told him that although we had..you know..slept together, I didn't think that an actual relationship would be the smartest thing for us to do."  
  
"I have to be honest with you, Cat. You're kind of sounding...sort of.."  
  
"Slutty?" I suggested. He laughed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Listen, I know this is difficult to understand, but you said yourself that our night together seemed like a mistake. I'm just going with what my gut tells me is right."  
  
"I know I'm not usually a very romantic guy, but what is your heart telling you?" I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on, Cat! You obviously felt enough for him to have sex with him. We both know you, and you don't just go out and screw every guy you meet. You take these things very seriously, ever since-" he stopped. Ever since Eddie, I finished for him in my head. "You're obviously attracted to him."  
  
He had a point. I knew what I had done was wrong, but I was too stubborn to admit it. "I don't know Gris, is a simple attraction really enough basis to start a relationship and possibly ruin a friendship?"  
  
"You're too cautionary, Cat." Gil said, running his hand along the edge of his desk. "Forget about what you think is the right thing to do. For once do what you feel is right." My head was reeling. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. Gil Grissom giving me relationship advice..  
  
I stood up, frustrated with him and his philosophies. "I can't just do what I feel is right! I'm not just worrying about myself here, but about my daughter, and Warrick. I can't put myself in a situation where it's easy to hurt either of them."  
  
"You've already hurt Warrick, Cathy." He said, looking at me calmly.  
  
"Don't call me that." I snapped, pacing the room while running a hand through my hair.  
  
"Alright. You know what? Do whatever the hell you want. Go buy a new Dodge Viper and dye your hair blue, for all I care." His anger shone through the blue of his eyes. "But get rid of the tension in my lab. Go talk to him. Even though you can't make me understand this, maybe you can explain it properly to him."  
  
He grabbed his glasses off of his desk and stormed out the door, leaving me standing there in the middle of his office. I sat in his chair, buried my head in my hands, and cried for the first time since all of this happened.  
  
  
  
The next morning I went to his house. I wasn't sure what I was going to say, but I knew he had to be the first one I told.  
  
I knocked on his door and waited for him to answer, smiling when I heard his feet stumble several times. I must have woken him.  
  
"Catherine." He said simply, after he had opened the door. His curly hair was ruffled and fluffing around his head. He quickly tied up his bathrobe. I giggled.  
  
"Sleeping late this morning, Gil?" I asked. He growled and let me in, and I marveled at the empty feeling his apartment held.  
  
"Why are you here?" He asked me, pouring himself and me a coffee. He wasn't angry or irritated, he was simply asking me a question.  
  
I sighed. "No coffee for me, thanks." He stopped pouring and set the pot on the counter. "Come sit beside me." I patted the part of the couch beside me. He shook his head.  
  
"I'll stay here."  
  
"You're going to want to sit down for this one." He said nothing, just raised an eyebrow and took a seat next to me on the brown sofa. "What is it?" He asked. I looked at him closely. I saw the fear in his eyes, the way it danced across my face.  
  
"Horatio Cane called me this morning. He's being transferred as supervisor to the New York City CSI team. He wants me to take over his position on the Miami team." I said it all one breath, then leaned back and closed my eyes, glad to finally be rid of the weight on my shoulders.  
  
"Are you going to accept the offer?" Gil asked, never missing a beat. He was trying to act like what I had just said had no effect on him whatsoever, but I knew how he really felt.  
  
"I think I might." The words left my mouth without permission from my mind.  
  
He sat still, silent next to me, sipping his coffee slowly. He stared at the wall ahead of him for almost a full minute, not moving. Neither of us were speaking and the silence was unbearable. Finally, his voice cut through the thickness.  
  
"I'm going to miss you, Cathy." His words sounded strange. This was, after all, Grissom. The emotion in his voice caught me off guard. It wasn't like him to let me know exactly what he was feeling like he was doing now. "Have you told Warrick?"  
  
"No." I said. My throat felt like it was closing in.  
  
He nodded, then took another sip of his coffee. I watched him carefully.  
  
"I'm happy for you." He said. I did smile, then.  
  
"It's a big opportunity." I said. "Being a supervisor is a big job."  
  
"It is." He exhaled loudly, running a palm over his face. "It really is." 


	7. I Love You

This Is Your Song Chapter Seven  
  
Author's Notes: I got a new bathing suit! In other words, I have nothing to say. Thanks: Allison, you badgerer, you! You helped me write this chapter (and make sure it wasn't evil because I wanted to avoid the whole Reverend incident happening again). In other words, thank you so much for all your help. I'm getting sentimental on the second to last chapter of this story. Heh. Also thanks to Amber, who is just so awesome that it's hard not to be thankful! In fact, it's impossible! Thanks so much for all the kind words of encouragement you've given me, Amber! And Tash, I'm still hoping I don't get any heavy objects chucked at me, although I think you'll be relatively happy with this chapter. I know I was! Thank you for beta-ing, I love ya!  
  
  
  
Heat. It was unbearable, beating down from the sky onto my back as I bent over to tie my shoe. When I took a breath the only air around me was hot, fiery, oxygen. It felt like thousands of others had breathed it in when its warm fingers touched my throat. I exhaled, happy to be rid of the recycled air that tried to take over my lungs.  
  
"It's freaking hot out here." Sara said, squatting beside me in the desert dirt. She lifted up the bottom of her shirt to wipe off the beads of sweat that had gathered beneath her hairline. I watched her while I waited in vain for my head to clear up. "Catherine, are you alright?" She asked me, obviously noting that I was a little light-headed.  
  
I shook myself all over, wincing when my heavy hair fell against my neck. "Fine." I said shortly. I needed to breathe again, but there wasn't anything to take in. "Sit..I've got to sit down.."  
  
Sara jumped up and helped me to a rock which was laying solitarily in the dirt. I grimaced when the heat lunged at me in a wave, pushing me off of my seat and onto my back on the ground. Air, I needed air.  
  
I felt someone else's arms underneath my arms, lifting me. My eyes were closed and my head was fuzzy, but I could hear Sara grunting with my weight. I tried to help her get me to wherever it was she was taking me, but I couldn't find my legs. Air, I needed air.  
  
I felt a soft, cushiony seat underneath me. I awoke to find that I was laying on a seat in the Tahoe, air blowing against my face, cold air. Air...I breathed in, letting my eyes flutter open and an almost delirious smile spread across my face. "Air.." I whispered. The air conditioner was on full-blast. Sara was in the driver's seat, turning to me so she could stare me in the face.  
  
"Are you OK?" She asked me. I shook my head.  
  
"I will be." I breathed again, letting the sweet, cool oxygen fill my lungs. The hairs on my arms prickled with the change in temperature. My head became less fuzzy, and I wiped a palm across my face.  
  
"I called an ambulance." At my surprised expression, she raised an eyebrow. "You were unconscious for three whole minutes." I nodded shortly. "Have you eaten anything today?"  
  
I thought back. "I'm not sure." To take the attention away from my unhealthy lifestyle, I quickly said. "But it's so hot." Sara raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It's been hotter." She reached over to the vent and wiggled her fingers. "It's not getting cold fast enough." Looking over at me again, she felt the skin on my arm with a pinky. "Your skin is hot. Not wet, just hot. And red." Her eyes widened. "You need water." She reached over and grabbed her water bottle from by her feet, shoving it at me. "Drink. Keep drinking even when you're not thirsty anymore. You've got heat stroke."  
  
I took the water bottle and pressed it to my lips. The liquid felt cool in my throat, soaking up the dust and warm air that still festered there. "Come to think of it, I haven't drunk anything all day." I said. Suddenly, I was confused. "Why are we here, again?"  
  
"Crime scene." Sara said simply, never missing a beat. "Put some water on your neck, Catherine."  
  
I flipped a hand at her face. "I'm fine. I'll be fine in a second."  
  
"You are not fine. You could have died if you were out here alone."  
  
"You sound like a doctor." I remarked. My head was starting to clear up, and it felt good when Sara lifted the freezing cold water bottle to my neck and kept it pressed there.  
  
"Warrick, you'd better get over here." She stopped, squinting her eyes as she listened to what he was saying. It took me a few seconds to register that she was talking on her cell phone. "Because, Catherine's got heat stroke. I called 911, the ambulance should be here any minute now. I figured you'd want to ride along with her....I can't, I've got a crime scene to process...OK, see you in a few minutes."  
  
I noted vaguely to myself that I still wasn't sweating. "Keep drinking." She ordered me.  
  
"You're a good friend to take care of me like this." I said, and smiled as best I could. She grinned back, putting a hand to my forehead.  
  
"Still no sweat." She frowned, then, her forehead crinkled. "This isn't good, Catherine."  
  
"Why don't you just take me home or something? Why are we waiting here?" I avoided her statement.  
  
Sara looked bewildered.. "We're waiting for the ambulance, Cat. Remember?"  
  
I nodded, drinking and drinking.. She watched me intently, staring as my throat bulged with the intake of liquid. "Jeez, this is insane. It's gotta be like 110 out there."  
  
"Welcome to Nevada." I said absent-mindedly. The sound of car tires on dust made me lift my head. I saw a white van pull in beside the Tahoe and several men jump out. "Coming to bring me to the looney bin?" I asked once they opened my door, and laughed out loud.  
  
"How are you feeling?" They asked me instantly, one of them putting the back of his hand to my forehead. "No sweat." He said, more to Sara than to me, raising both eyebrows. "Here." He pressed a freezing cold ice pack against my neck, and then two more under my armpits.  
  
Another man lifted me off my seat and carried me to the ambulance, where they laid me down on a seat in the back. I felt my body getting wet and cold air blowing against my face. Movement of the vehicle caused my stomach to lurch, and I noticed for the first time that my head was throbbing. The last thing I remember before my memory went blank was Warrick's worried face above me and his soft hand stroking my dry, red cheek.  
  
  
  
I awoke to bright lights, soft sheets, and the beautiful ecstacy of sweat on my skin. I looked to my left and saw my daughter lying beside me, awake and staring me in the face.  
  
"Mommy, are you awake finally?" She asked, her voice oddly high- pitched. I tried to smile.  
  
"Yeah baby, I am." She smiled and leaned against my shoulder. There was a doctor standing in the doorway, looking at me.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, I said it was OK that she sleep with you. I thought it might be nice for you to wake up to something familiar." He was tall with grey hair, and carried a clipboard. Walking into the room completely, he smiled. "Do you know where you are?" He asked.  
  
"In the hospital, obviously." I said, looking around my room. There was a curtain to my right, behind which I could hear light voices whispering. "What the heck happened to me? I didn't get in a car accident, did I?"  
  
Lindsey giggled. "No, mommy, you got heat stroke." She said the two words proudly. "That means you were so hot you couldn't sweat." She frowned. "And that's bad."  
  
The doctor chuckled at my daughter's words, but then turned serious. "It's very, very bad. You could have died, Catherine." He brushed a fingertip across my forehead and looked satisfied when he saw it was covered with sweat. "Your body temperature will fluctuate abnormally in the next few weeks. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep you here for a few more hours. Oh, and my name's Dr. Hulk, by the way." I smiled.  
  
"Thanks Dr. Hulk." I said.  
  
"And there's a man waiting outside the room who'd really like to see you. I told him to wait till you regained consciousness, but I think he's getting a little impatient. You were out for quite a while." The doctor smile at me again and left the room, holding the door for a worried-looking Warrick.  
  
"Hey Catherine.." Warrick said softly, walking slowly towards me and creasing an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey." I said simply. I didn't know what else to say. Lindsey was lying right beside me, and I didn't want her to hear anything that I felt like saying at the moment. "Is there anybody else out there?" I asked Warrick. He nodded.  
  
"Grissom and Sara." He said. I looked to my left.  
  
"Lindsey, why don't you go outside and visit Uncle Gil? Mom wants to talk to Warrick about some stuff, OK?"  
  
"OK." She said, and leaned over to kiss me on the cheek before leaving the room.  
  
"You freaked the shit out of all of us, Catherine. Especially Sara. She said you were spouting nonsense." Warrick told me as soon as Lindsey had left the room. He moved to my bed and sat on the edge of it. I loved the way his smell drifted across to me.  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I was an idiot to not have drank in that weather. It was my own fault." I ran a hand through my hair. I felt so weak and stupid sitting here in the hospital while my friends worried about me. I felt guilty for putting my life in danger when I had so much to live for. I thanked God for the fourth time that Sara had been there.  
  
"Hey, don't worry about it now." He said, seeing how upset I was. He put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye, and I melted. "Doctor says you might be pretty weak for a few days, so Gris told me to tell you that he's giving you off until Friday." I smiled weakly. His face got a little sad. "It's sure gonna be boring around the lab without you."  
  
I groaned inwardly. Grissom had told him about my accepting the job offer in Miami. I hadn't wanted him to, and told him not to, but he had anyway. I wondered fleetingly what to say. "I'm sorry, Warrick. But the job is a much better one. And I have to take these opportunities, change is good, right?" I asked. He looked confused.  
  
"Catherine, what the hell are you talking about?" He asked. "I was talking about you being gone for three days...what were you talking about?!"  
  
Uh-oh. This heat stroke thing still had me a little loopy. My eyes widened and I stared at the wall in front of me. I could feel his eyes boring into my skull so finally I spoke. "I was offered a job as supervisor on the Miami Dade CSI team. I accepted. I'm sorry, I thought you already knew."  
  
He looked like somebody just threw a rock in his face. I wanted to say something to make it seem less devastating, but I couldn't think of anything and I didn't want to try too hard. My brain already hurt. "When do you leave?" He asked.  
  
I winced. "A week." He raised an eyebrow. "I found out about it a while ago but I just never got around to telling anyone.."  
  
"Right." He said curtly. "Right...well, I'm going to leave now, cause I'm sure you wanna see the other guys." He got up to leave.  
  
"Warrick, wait, come on, don't leave me like this." He shook his head, his back turned to me.  
  
"Seeya, Cat."  
  
WOW, ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER TO GO! 


	8. Last Dance

This Is Your Song Chapter Eight Completion  
  
Author's Notes: Well, here it is, the end of my story. My third CSI fan fiction, finished. As I sit here in my leather rolley office chair, I breathe a sigh of relief. No more cramming writing into my 'busy' schedule, no more racking my brain for ideas, no more trying, but not succeeding, in writing song lyrics. Well... at least until my next fan fiction.. Thanks: I'd like to take this opportunity to thank A LOT of people. I've got a list. Tash - Through all the time I've known you, which hasn't been very long, you've always read my fics with the most open of minds, and let me write what I wanted to without freaking out at me. You're an awesome beta, and I honestly don't know what I would have done without you these past couple of months. You make this writing thing seem easier. Allison -- For all the inside jokes that came along with this story, thank you. Thank you to the reverend, wherever you are. You're awesome, Allison. You make writing more fun and my days easier. And remember, "MICROSCOPE!" *punches the air* Amber -- You agreed to read my stuff quite readily, which I found odd before, because you're such an awesome writer, and so far above me, I couldn't quite understand why you'd want to bother with suffering through my stories. But I'm glad you did, because you've helped me with this a lot, and I thank you again and again! Where would I be without you? Mooni -- To whom this was dedicated to. God bless you. Meg -- You make everyday funnier. Make sure you always stay nutty. And I will always have a ready supply of Kleneex for you, because you're the best. Thanks for all your help. The GrissomSara mailing list - For putting up with my daily blabber, you deserve the largest of thanks. Telly - for creating the character Chantelle. You're a nut, babe. The sweetest one. Pat - Wherever you are, buddy, I love you. I wait patiently for the day when I will see you again. Keep flashing that party smile, my man. This one's for you.  
  
  
  
The next week was unbearable. At work Warrick and I became very good at avoiding one another, even at my going-away party, the one the lab threw for me. He didn't even show up. I was devastated, but tried not to show it as I poured myself drink after drink... It was my way of escaping it all. But as soon as I got home and saw the phone sitting in the corner, the window flashing the words "0 Messages", I was reminded again of the state I was in.  
  
I missed him. A lot. I missed how his hand always found the perfect place on my back while we were walking together; how he smiled instantly when I said his name; how, when we made love, his eyes never left mine. I missed it all, and more. I didn't think I could go one more day without him.  
  
And then there was this other part of me that snuck up and slapped me in the face every now and then. This part of me told me that I was doing the right thing, that all this running was for a reason: to save myself from getting hurt again, like I had with Eddie, and with so many others. I spent my last few nights in Vegas tossing and turning in my bed, throwing myself against walls, buying bottle after bottle of vodka.  
  
Hoping he would call. Or come over.  
  
But he never did.  
  
Not that I could blame him. His pride had been hurt. I had rejected him, and guys like Warrick didn't take that too easily. I could still see his eyes staring back at me, so full of pain and hurt that I could barely stand to look at them. Nothing could erase the memory.  
  
The night came sooner than expected. I shut the door behind me and stared down at my feet as I walked to my car. My bare legs revealed the fact that I had forgotten to shave for a while. I bent down to run my fingers across the stubble that sat there, wanting to know if it was as bad as it looked. I cursed myself for wearing shorts.  
  
Suddenly, a sweet serenity flooded over me, washed over my face and arms, moving down toward my toes. I looked up and saw him coming down the road towards me, his steps long and quick. He was running. His feet hitting the ground, my own breath coming in heavy gasps, my heart beating. Sounds surrounded me.  
  
"Catherine, wait!" He shouted, running faster. He was out of breath, I could tell. I wondered how far he had come. "Please, just-" he stopped about three feet ahead of me, looking terrified. I didn't know what had given him the notion that I was in any hurry.  
  
"Yes?" I asked. I was dying to know what he would say.  
  
"Don't go." He said, stuffing a hand in his pants pocket. I cocked my head a little and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Why not?" I was teasing him. I wanted him to convince me to stay.  
  
He shrugged. "I can't think of a good reason." He looked defeated. My heart broke instantly when I saw his eyes. I knew what he really wanted to say. "I just know I don't want you to go. I want you to stay."  
  
"And you think that's a convincing reason?" I asked him, almost surprised at his lack of romantic drive.  
  
He shook his head. "No, I know it's not. But I was hoping..." He gulped. "I was hoping it would be enough."  
  
"Give me something else. Why don't you want me to go? What's waiting for me here?" I felt stupid for having to punch it out of him, like I should just leave to see if that would make him say something romantic.  
  
He stared at me, transfixed. "Me?" He sounded hesitant, like he wasn't even sure about that. "Me." Smiling a little, he took one step closer to me, which still placed him little less than three feet away. "Please, Catherine..." His pleading sounded almost pathetic. "Please don't go."  
  
I stared at him, unmoving. Waiting.  
  
Sighing, he lowered his head to look at his shoes. "I'd miss you, and Lindsey. I'd miss the way every room you're in always ends up smelling like you, even if you're only in there for three seconds. I'd miss the way your hair looks in the morning. I'd miss that cute thing you do when you say big words."  
  
I had no idea what he was talking about. "What cute thing?" I asked, curious. He just shook his head.  
  
"I'd miss you beating me in Tetris, and the victory dance you do when the team you bet on wins in hockey."  
  
I smiled at the memory of our break room escapades. The dozens of times we had been stuck in that room together, how we had always made it fun. "I'd miss beating you in Tetris, too."  
  
He chuckled. "Come on, Cath. I know you don't think it would work out, but-" He held out a hand to me. "Give me one more chance, please?"  
  
I smiled a little. "You honestly think that your little speech was going to make me turn down a better-paying job and a better climate?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, you're wrong." He suddenly looked defeated. "I was just on my way to pick up Lindsey from Eddie's, Warrick. If you had called Grissom before you ran all the way over here, you would have known I changed my mind. I'm not moving to Miami. I turned down the supervisor's job last night." His features changed from sadness to shock. "My home is here."  
  
He smiled then, so wide I thought his cheeks would burst. "I'm so glad." I shivered involuntarily. He moved closer to me, putting his arms around me. I felt safe there. I wasn't sure what this meant, but I knew what I wanted it to.  
  
"I was an idiot, Warrick. I want a relationship. I want this. I want to be with you." I shivered involuntarily. "The past six days have been the worst of my life."  
  
"You're sure this is what you want?" Warrick asked me softly, smoothing down a part of my hair that was sticking up a little. I nodded slowly, wiping a raindrop from the bridge of his nose. It had begun to rain. I hadn't noticed.  
  
"I'm positive."  
  
"And you're going to let him go?" His question confused me, and I looked up at him, my nose crinkled from a lack of understanding.  
  
"Let who go?" I pulled a little away from him to get a better look at his face. His eyes were more green than I had ever seen them, moist and frosty from the temperature.  
  
"Gil." He whispered in my ear. I wondered fleetingly how he knew, but didn't stop to think too long. I was afraid he'd get upset if I took too long to answer so I quickly blurted out,  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I'll let him go." I shivered from the cold, zipping his jacket open and burrowing myself inside of it, resting my cheek against his chest. "How did you know?"  
  
He didn't answer, just wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "Tell me what happened."  
  
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut when I felt his finger on my cheekbone, wiping away the tear I hadn't known was there. "It was at a party. Everyone had left, and he looked so different standing in my living room than he did when he was at the lab. There had always been something unspoken between us, something we both knew we'd have to get out of the way. It was stupid, we were drunk, we both went too far..." I sighed, snuggling closer to Warrick. "When I woke up in the morning he was gone. We never spoke of it again. I should have let it go a long time ago, but for some reason I just couldn't..."  
  
"You never got closure." Warrick told me. "He never told you how he felt about any of it." I was surprised at his understanding, and nodded, nestled inside his jacket. He exhaled a deep breath and held me tighter. "Do you still love him?"  
  
I shook my head quickly, shook it over and over again. "No, no. I never did. I never did love him, not in that way, anyhow. I love him so much in other ways, but not that way." I wondered why it had taken me so long to admit that to myself. "It's just hard to let go of something that you were never really sure you had."  
  
He pulled me away from him and pressed his lips against my forehead. They felt cool and moist, yet warmed my whole body somehow. "I know." He mumbled, moving his arms from my back to my shoulders. "You should talk to him."  
  
I nodded. "I should, but he doesn't want to listen." Warrick stared at me and didn't change his expression. I knew what he wanted me to do. "OK, I'll talk to him tomorrow during break. But what will I say?"  
  
Warrick shrugged. "Everything you feel." A sudden thought seemed to occur to him. "I'll take you out to dinner afterwards, and you can tell me all about it."  
  
"Take me to dinner after shift? That's a little late." I said, trying to look at his face while still staying as closely pressed to him as possible.  
  
"Yes, it is." He said simply, and I giggled. "You don't mind to eat after midnight, do you?"  
  
I shook my head. "But hey, isn't tomorrow your day off?" He looked guilty.  
  
"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget." I laughed. "I'd still like to take you out."  
  
I was shocked. He was going to get out of bed after 12 just to take me out to dinner and hear me blab about my problems. I was in heaven. "How will you know when my shift is over?"  
  
"Call me on my cell." I raised an eyebrow in question, and he answered to reassure me, "I'll be at the club, otherwise I'd say call me at home." He took my arm. "Here's the number." And with a pen that came out of his pocket quick as lightning, he was writing a long number on the inside of my arm. The blue of the ink was a dark contrast to the white of my creamy skin, and I laughed a little when the ball point tickled me.  
  
"Warrick, you don't have to do this, really." He didn't say anything, just put one hand on either side of my face and pulled my lips to his. His sweet, slow kiss took my breath away and I sighed when he let go. "OK, I'm convinced."  
  
  
  
Gil was sitting in his office bent over a stack of papers with a puzzled look on his face when I walked in. He looked up when he sensed my presence, smiling slightly when I waved. "Hey Cath." He said lightly, seeming happier than usual.  
  
"Hey Gil." I used my hand to swing the extra chair around to where I was standing. "We have to talk."  
  
I hadn't meant to sound so blunt, but he didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow and motioned for me to sit down. "About anything in particular, or just in general?" I sat down and smiled slightly, putting one of my hands on his.  
  
"We need to talk about that night, Gil." I didn't know what I was expecting to see in his eyes, but relief hadn't been an option. Not until now.  
  
"Yeah, I think so, too." He looked down at our hands together on his desk. "What happened?"  
  
I laughed a little and shook my head. "I have no idea. One minute we're laughing and drinking with Jim and Warrick and everyone else, the next minute you're on me like a hawk on a titmouse."  
  
He looked offended. "That's not true and you know it. You made the first move."  
  
"Really?" I asked, puzzled. "I can't remember."  
  
Our eyes locked. "Neither can I, actually. I was just making that up. Who knows which one of us made the first move?" He sighed in resignation. "We really messed up, didn't we?"  
  
I nodded. "Yeah, we did." I didn't want to say that I regretted what we had done, but I did. Things between us would have been so much more simple if this had never happened. "I do remember a bit about the night, though." I looked at him coyly, hoping to set things back to normal by doing a little friendly flirting.  
  
"Oh?" He asked, looking at a spot on the wall ahead of him. "What?" Finally he looked at me and saw my expression, and laughed.  
  
"I would never have thought that all that muscle lay underneath your clothing-"  
  
"Catherine..." His voice warned me to be quiet.  
  
"Sara is one lucky woman, Gil." He widened his eyes and finally I shut up, giggling and smiling at him apologetically.  
  
"Things are so different now, Cathy."  
  
Before he could continue, I muttered, "Don't call me that." His eyes searched my face for understanding. "How have they changed?"  
  
Before he could answer, Sara showed up in his office, leaning against the doorway and smiling at him. "Ready to go, Gil?" She held up his jacket in her left hand and looked at me fleetingly to acknowledge my presence.  
  
"Yeah," he said to her softly, and got up from his chair, stopping on his way to the door to put a hand on my shoulder. He stared at me, asking me silently if I was OK. I nodded. I smiled to calm his worries and he grinned back, walking out the door and leaving me alone in the room.  
  
I sighed, staring at the pictures of dead insects on his walls. "Gilly, you're a complicated man." The faded ink on the inside of my arm caught my attention, and I ran a finger along Warrick's almost-erased cell phone number that I had put on paper last night.  
  
"But you're right. Things have changed." I picked up the phone on his desk and started to dial the number. "Hey, Warrick!"  
  
  
  
Warrick and I walked into the club together two weeks later, holding hands. The familiar scents nearly knocked me off my feet, and my surroundings made me gasp. It was exactly as I had remembered. "It hasn't changed one bit." I said.  
  
"It's only been a month." Warrick reminded me, guiding me to a table where he pulled out a chair for me to sit on. "But I know, it seems longer." He took a seat across from me. I smiled.  
  
"Yeah, it does." He sighed softly, playing with the charms on my bracelet absent-mindedly like he always did. "You gonna sing tonight?" I asked.  
  
He shook his head. "I haven't got anything prepared." The music around us swirled above my head. I heard him hum softly. "You look good tonight." I smiled again.  
  
"Thanks." I put a finger to his lips and then leaned forward to kiss him, getting lost in his scent surrounding me. A loud 'ahem' broke our moment, and I whirled around to see Grissom, Sara, Nick and Greg standing beside our table.  
  
"Are we interrupting something?" Greg asked, smirking. I nodded.  
  
"Yeah!" I said, still shocked at seeing them there. They all shrugged and took seats around the table. Warrick chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"What are you guys doing here?" He asked.  
  
"Grissom pointed out that we never had a proper celebration of the fact that Catherine is staying in Vegas." Sara said, beaming at everyone present.  
  
"Let's eat cake." Gil suggested, and looked around for a menu. I pointed to the wall, and he nodded in realization.  
  
"Let's wait a few minutes for the cake." I said, and grabbed Warrick's hand, pulling him away from the group of friends and into the crowd of strangers that had gathered in the middle of the club. "Dance with me..." I breathed in his ear, and watched as he smiled and drew me in closer to him.  
  
"I love you..." He whispered, swaying with me as the notes caressed the air. His hand smoothed down my hair.  
  
"I love you too." I said, resting my head on his shoulder.  
  
"And you can tell everybody This is your song." - Moulin Rouge 


End file.
